


Midnight

by AnnieforSimonsflower



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Friendship, Post-Hogwarts, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-14
Updated: 2007-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-27 19:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10815534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieforSimonsflower/pseuds/AnnieforSimonsflower
Summary: Harry rings in his seventeenth birthday with the two people who mean the most to him.





	Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> This story is archived on behalf of Simons_flower, who passed away in 2009, by her designated archivist.

  
Author's notes: For [](http://antonia-east.livejournal.com/profile)[**antonia_east**](http://antonia-east.livejournal.com/) in the 2007 [](http://community.livejournal.com/springtime_gen/profile)[**springtime_gen**](http://community.livejournal.com/springtime_gen/) exchange. Thanks tons to [](http://abigail89.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://abigail89.livejournal.com/)**abigail89** for the beta.  


* * *

** Midnight **

Harry often thought he'd be half the person, let alone half the man, he was without Ron and Hermione. Not that they were helping him at the moment, damn Ron's twin brothers. The twins had been the ones to send him the Muggle alcohol, knowing wizarding alcohol would be a bad idea at his current location -- the home of his Muggle relatives, the Dursleys. The twins hadn't cautioned Harry not to drink alone, though, so he was now quite maudlin as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

 

Vision bleary, he looked at his clock. A quarter to midnight.

 

He sat up and poured another glass. The whiskey was an early birthday present and Harry intended to thoroughly enjoy it as his birthday arrived.

 

It would be his seventeenth birthday. Though he'd still be in that hazy area of not-quite-a-minor and not-quite-an-adult in the Muggle world, he would be fully of age in the Wizarding world. Ron and Hermione were planning to take him to the Ministry of Magic in the afternoon so he could take his Apparition test.

 

Once that was out of the way, and he received his license, they'd move into the residence he'd inherited from his godfather, 12 Grimmauld Place. Though the house was a nightmare, it would make a great base for the hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes, something they planned to begin after the wedding of Ron's older brother Bill to Fleur Delacour.

 

Ten until midnight.

 

He wondered if he'd ever have a girlfriend. There was part of him that screamed he shouldn't because everyone close to him had died. Then again, another part of him protested, Ron and Hermione were close to him and very much alive despite several attempts to kill them. The dilemma still bothered him and probably would for a very long time.

 

Five before midnight.

 

He tipped his glass up, shocked when he saw his wardrobe doors through the bottom. It was empty again, but he didn't remember finishing it.

 

The bottle was half-gone. He held it up, tipping it in several directions to watch the moonlight reflect through the amber liquid. The thought did pass through his mind that he should stop drinking, but he quickly quashed it. Not only was he going to be an adult, but he would be leaving the Dursley household forever. It was a day to celebrate.

 

He filled the glass, hand unsteady. It was only luck that he didn't spill any of the liquor.

 

From the first floor, he heard the deep _bong_ of the Dursley's grandfather clock.

 

Midnight.

 

Holding the glass up, he toasted himself. "Happy birthday to me."

 

He choked on the next swallow as two _crack_ s sounded in his room. If he hadn't already been sitting, he would have fallen over in surprise.

 

"Oh, Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked as she took a seat next to Harry on his bed.

 

He held up the bottle. "Drinking."

 

"Budge over," Ron muttered on Harry's other side, shoving him toward Hermione. Harry and Hermione both moved far enough over for Ron to take a seat.

 

"Why are you drinking alone?" Hermione asked, prying Harry's fingers from the bottle.

 

"It's m' birthday," Harry answered.

 

Ron pulled his wand from its holster, waved it, and Transfigured a paperweight on Harry's desk into a glass. Grinning, he held it out toward Hermione. "Share?"

 

She huffed in mock annoyance, but smiled. Pulling out her own wand, she conjured a glass for herself.

 

"Show off," Ron muttered as Hermione raised an eyebrow and poured the alcohol into both empty glasses.

 

She set aside the bottle before turning back to the boys. Tapping her glass to each of theirs, she said, " _Sláinte_. Happy birthday, Harry."

 

Ron echoed the birthday wishes, his grin widening when Harry smiled goofily.

 

"Why are you here?" Harry asked, hoping he hadn't slurred his words.

 

Ron slapped his shoulder in what he'd intended to be a friendly gesture but ended up knocking Harry to his hands and knees on the floor in a spray of alcohol. Ron and Hermione froze, horrified, as Harry turned to face them.

 

"Wasn't nice," he slurred, then began to laugh.

 

Ron and Hermione shared a glance before Ron dissolved into laughter with Harry while Hermione only shook her head, smiling.

 

A thundering sound in the hallway was the only warning the trio received before Harry's Uncle Vernon slammed the door open to fill the doorway with his presence. He was red-faced with frustrated anger, the color clashing horribly with his yellow pajamas. Harry had always thought those pajamas made his uncle look like a very large canary.

 

"How did you freaks get in here?" Vernon shouted.

 

Hermione merely smiled as she rolled her wand between her hands. Ron, on the other hand, remembering his previous experiences with the Dursleys, stood, and pointed his wand directly at Vernon's head.

 

"I think you should leave us alone," Ron said, steel in his voice. Hermione continued to passively observe but her hands had her wand in motion should she need it.

 

"What are you doing here?" Vernon blustered. Harry wasn't sure if he was amused or not by the sight of his Aunt Petunia's pinched face flitting over Uncle Vernon's shoulder.

 

Ron tipped his head to one side. "Does it matter? We're of age and can visit our best mate when we like."

 

Vernon seemed to puff up further. "The boy is still underage, so get out!"

 

Harry, still blurry from the alcohol, smiled as he slid his wand off the desk.

 

Hermione spoke up this time. "Actually, Mr. Dursley, Harry _is_ now of age."

 

Vernon's eyes shot between the three of them. His face grew progressively more purple. Harry worried, for a moment, that his uncle would have a stroke right then. Eventually Vernon gasped and the effect was somewhat like twisting open a pressure valve.

 

"If that's true, boy, then get out. I'm not going to house, clothe and feed you any longer than I have to!" With those words, Vernon stepped back, slamming the door as he went. Harry thought he caught an apologetic look from his aunt before the door closed but dismissed it. The walls vibrated as Vernon stormed back to the master bedroom.

 

Harry blinked several times before laughing again. Ron lowered his wand and stared at Harry. Hermione seemed bemused as she watched Harry.

 

"They barely housed me, clothed me only so the neighbors didn't complain, and damn near starved me," Harry snarled after cutting his laughter off sharply, the words as much to himself as Ron and Hermione. "I'll be glad to leave."

 

Harry attempted to pack with a wave of his wand but, being quite drunk, only succeeded in burying Hermione under pile of his clothing. He stared at her for a moment, horrified at what he'd done. Scrambling up from the floor, he stumbled over his own feet twice.

 

Hermione pulled an oversized shirt off her face. "Is there any reason for such violence toward your clothing?" Hermione asked archly. Before Harry could say anything, Hermione whisked her wand in the air and had Harry's belongings packing themselves neatly in the trunk.

 

Harry stood before his bed, swaying as he watched Hermione work. Ron opened the window then let Hedwig out of her cage with the instruction to meet them at Grimmauld Place. She nipped Harry's ear, then Ron's, before flying away.

 

Harry blinked repeatedly. In less than five minutes, he'd gone from sharing a birthday drink with his best friends to ready to move out of his residence -- certainly not a home -- of nearly sixteen years.

 

He slowly smiled. "I reckon I'm ready."

 

Ron shrank Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage, tucking them both into his pocket. "See you there." He was gone with a _crack_ of Disapparition.

 

"You okay, Harry?" Hermione asked, laying a hand on his arm.

 

Harry grabbed the liquor bottle. He scanned the room carefully. There wasn't anything remaining that he'd miss. Turning to smile down at Hermione, he said, "I'm okay. Let's go."

 

She smiled back as she Apparated them both to Grimmauld Place. With that, at ten minutes past midnight on July 31, Harry Potter vacated Privet Drive forever.


End file.
